Lisa
by Eve Karma
Summary: A Kate Mongomery/Sam Seaborn fic...with some Josh/Donna and some CJ/Toby thrown in.


Title: Lisa

Author: Eve Karma

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Oh yeah, it's mine. All mine. j/k, of course. :) Kate actually belongs to me.

Spoilers: Anything up to and including TIITL, as well as any of my Sam/Kate ficage.

Other: A continuation of "Betting on A Sunday" but you don't need to read that to understand this.

I know nothing about Senators' names, I just made it up. Artistic license, thankyouverymuch.

Thanks to George Stephanopoulos for giving me Bice. :)

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Wednesday

~ *** ~

*10:30 AM*

"Hey," I greet Sam and plunk four phone messages down on his desk. I sigh and try to catch my breath as I've been running around the bullpen like a nut all morning, a slave to the government. 

He, as usual, barely looks at the messages or me. "Only four calls?" he asks, and I start thinking he has ESP.

"Um, yeah, I think..." I bite my lip, "Oh, wait, someone called and I wrote it on my hand," I murmur, turning my hands over, looking for a note. "Ah, there it is. It rubbed off when I washed my hands, but you can still kind of see-"

"Kate?" Sam interrupts.

I look up. "Yeah?"

"Who called?"

"Oh, yeah, that, um, that Senator guy from Oregon..."

"McCleary?"

"Yep. Him. Call him. I think it's about the thing."

"Okay." He turns his attention back to the computer screen. I start to go, but I stop and turn when he speaks again.

"Hey Lisa?"

"Who?"

He blinks hard and shakes his head. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Who's Lisa?"

"No one important, really. Just, uh, you know, I'm not good with names."

But he is good with names. Really good. And that's the second time this week he's called me "Lisa." I didn't pay attention to it before, but now I'm starting to get nervous. 

He spins his chair around to face me and continues, "Anyway, Kate, remember we were talking on Sunday about maybe-"

"About maybe going to dinner?" I finish his sentence. "Yeah, I remember."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Working for you. Like always." I smile.

"Well, then. We are going out to dinner tonight," he declares. "Have you ever been to Bice?"

"Bice?" I echo and shake my head, unfamiliar with the name. 

"It's an Italian place up by the Hill."

"Do we need reservations? I'll call and make them," I offer, one step ahead of him.

"Great, thanks. Try for 6:30. Then afterwards we can come back here and watch TV with Josh."

"And why would we want to do that when we can all just go home and watch TV?"

"Didn't you hear?" he asks, "CJ is going to be on In the News tonight. Live on the East Coast." 

"Now _that_ I'll stick around for!" I laugh over my shoulder as I walk back to my desk.

*1:10 PM*

Walking up the stairs after a quick lunch in the mess, I spy Josh a few steps ahead of me.

"Josh!" I call out, suddenly remembering that I wanted to talk to him.

"Hey," he pauses at a landing so that I can catch up.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Only if you can convince Donna to bring me coffee," he flashes a dimpled smile that fades when he sees the serious expression on my face. "What's up?" he offers instead and we start walking.

"You're Sam's best friend, right?" I ask, wringing my hands.

"Yeah."

"You know a lot about his life and stuff like that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Josh...who's Lisa?"

He stops dead in his tracks and looks at me. "Let's go into my office."

He ushers me in and we both sit down. I nervously cross my legs and start chewing on the skin around my thumbnail.

"What do you know about Lisa?" he asks.

"Oh, so there really is a "Lisa"?" I say, removing my thumb from my teeth and staring at it in my lap. "I wasn't really sure, but Sam keeps calling me "Lisa"...by accident, I guess, and I was just wondering..." I trail off and look up, hoping for the man with funny hair to say something profound and meaningful. He sets his elbow on the armrest of his chair and cradles his face in his hand.

""Lisa" is Lisa Fredrick."

"Who's Lisa Fredrick?" I'm suddenly feeling very defensive.

"Lisa Fredrick--" Josh hesitates, as if he doesn't want to tell me, "Lisa Fredrick is Sam's ex-fiancé."

"No."

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"I wish I knew, but Sam doesn't like to talk about it too much. They were set to get married a few Septembers ago, but for some reason, Sam broke it off...I don't blame him. I mean, Lisa and I weren't really fond of each other."

"Wow," I sigh and sit back, running a hand through my hair.

"I wouldn't bring it up to him if I were you," Josh warns.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," I agree and stand up to leave. "Thanks, Josh--"

"Hey, where are you going? Sit back down," he directs, and I slowly lower myself back into the chair. "You still don't know why he keeps calling you "Lisa,"" he reminds me.

"No, I just kind of figured...wait. There's something here I should know, but don't. Am I right?" 

"Hold on, he says, before calling, "Donna!"

She opens the door and stands there, looking down her nose at him. "You don't need to yell, Joshua. I'm not deaf. Yet."

"Yeah. Do you know where that box is that I have those photos in?"

She stomps over to behind his desk, grabs a small box from the shelf, and nearly throws it onto his desk before storming out. Her only smile is saved for me as she breezes by.

"Are you two still having problems over that smarmy Republican?" I ask after the door is shut.

"Don't mention it."

"Okay," I hold up my hands to signal that I'm dropping the subject.

He sifts through the photos inside the box a bit before exclaiming, "Aha!" and placing one before me. "I don't even know why I still have that, but...I think you should see it."

I pick up the picture and squint at it. "When was this taken? I don't remember this at all, Josh."

But Josh is shaking his head at me. "That's not you."

I'm not catching on. "It's not? Then who is it?"

He takes a deep breath. "That's Lisa."

"Oh-" I gasp, and take a second look at the woman has his arm draped over the shoulders of. "Oh my god--no wonder."

"She even-she even used to run her hand through her hair just like you," Josh recalls.

I lay the photo back down on his desk and look at him. "I guess I should have talked to you about this _after_ I went out to dinner with Sam tonight?" I ask, my voice dripping with dread.

"Yeah. That would have been a good idea."

*8:00 PM*

After a (surprisingly) normal and enjoyable meal--frankly, the first real one I've had in weeks (Sadly, I've been living on Lean Cuisine.)--Sam pays the check, telling me, "Well, we have to be back by nine,"

"Which means we'll walk in around 8:55," I finish with a smile.

"Right," he smiles back and leans his arms on the table. "Which means we have an hour to kill before we go back. When's the last time you saw the reflecting pool at night?"

"Oh, it's been years," I reply.

"Shall we, then?"

"We shall." I answer, theatrically.

He drives me over and we sit on a bench at one end overlooking the pool.

"It's gorgeous," I muse and pull my jacket tighter around me to block the chilly breeze. 

"It is, isn't it," Sam agrees as he slips his hand into mine.

We sit in content silence for a few minutes while I build up the courage to ask him the question that's been bothering me all day.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think I look like Lisa?"

Sam turns his head to look at me and leans back a little, asking, "Lisa?"

"Yeah...I found out about her today. And I saw a picture of her. She's me, I'm her...it's uncanny." I shrug.

"You _do _look alike," he understates. "I didn't realize it at first, but Josh pointed it out to me. And by that time, I was already a bit...attached..."

"Is that why you keep calling me "Lisa?""

"Yeah. I guess so."

"It's okay, you know. I realize I'm not making it any easier for you to...forget about her, if that's what you're trying to do, or--"

"Yeah. That's what I'm trying to do." 

I smile and gaze at the Washington Monument in the distance.

"We should go back," Sam tells me.

"Yeah. We should."

We remove ourselves from the bench and he wraps an arm around me as we walk to his car.

"Hey, Sam," I ask, "You know, last week, when you, like, totally molested me and stole the five dollars that I rightfully earned?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Do you really like me, or did you just want your money back?"

"I'm not even going to answer that!"

*9:00 PM*

"Why are we watching this in CJ's office?" Donna asks no one in particular.

"Because she's not here. Why use our own space when we can use hers?" Josh replies as he appears in the doorway, bearing a beer in each hand.

"Pfffft," Donna exclaims from her spot on the floor.

I'm lying on the couch, and I sit up a bit when I see Josh hand Sam one beer and keep one for himself. 

"When are y'all going to stop ruining your livers?" I preach.

"Yeah. You two should know better," Donna adds, "Especially you, Josh, with your sensitive-"

"Hey!" he cuts her off.

"At least you could have brought _us _something to drink," I scold and hope I'm not helping start a White House-style battle of the sexes. Oh, who am I kidding? It's been going on forever.

"Toby got up and retrieved his own. Why couldn't you?" Sam asks in defense of the guys, but he's smiling at me. I'll get him back.

"Will you kids _shut up_ already?" Toby pipes up from where he's slowly spinning around in CJ's desk chair.

"We're not kids," Sam corrects.

"Shush. She's on." Then I hear Toby mutter, "ooh...I should stop," under his breath and his spinning comes to a halt. 

Donna slides back and leans against the couch. "He's in love with her," she informs me quietly, and I nod knowingly. 

Sam overhears us and turns to ask, "Who is?"

"C'mon, guys, I'm trying to watch!" Josh whines. 

"Oh well," I sigh, and we all settle in to watch CJ's appearance. So that we can make fun of her about it tomorrow.

As I watch, I run my hand through my hair, and I can't help but think of Lisa Fredrick.

I don't mind remembering. As long as Sam can forget.


End file.
